Skeptic in Salem: An Episode of Death

by Fiona Grace

  Mia looked at him, flabbergasted. What was his problem?

  “Who’s your friend?” Sylvie said, sauntering up to the table, chewing gum. She blew an enormous pink bubble before popping it and sucking the gum back into her mouth. Tandy immediately leapt up, wagged his tail, and greeted his auntie with excitement. The human conversation was getting a bit heated and he was relieved to see Sylvie show up.

  “Sylvie, this is Mark Harris,” Mia said.

  “Your ex?” Sylvie said, her eyes widening. They had shared old boyfriend stories, including how Mia lost her job and fiancé in one day. The final dinner Mia shared with Mark was legendary.

  Mark looked Sylvie up and down, cocking his head as if studying a bug.

  “Are the Sex Pistols in town?” he joked rudely.

  “Oh, funny,” Sylvie said. “So, you’re the jock financial guy?”

  “Mia told you about me, huh?” he said and chuckled to himself.

  “Not everything she said was sunshine, unicorns, and rainbows,” Sylvie said sweetly, chewing her gum. Tandy started to tug at Sylvia’s sleeve as if to convince her to leave this awkward situation.

  Mia loved Sylvie right now. Her fearless New York attitude was exactly what was needed. Mia had already had one terrible experience with Mark Harris. She certainly didn’t need another.

  “Listen, Mark, I have to go,” Mia said and pushed her chair away from the table. She pulled on her jacket and tossed a bill on the table. Tandy danced around happily. He really wanted to get out of the bad energy zone.

  Mark leaned back and looked Mia up and down.

  Why did he do that? Like he was shopping for livestock. Gross!

  “You look good, Mia. Great, actually.”

  “Why don’t you run back to Daisy Weston?” Mia said, reminding him of the sorority girl cheerleader he started dating a week after their breakup.

  “Daisy?” Mark said, surprised. “We dated once or twice. Is that why you’re upset with me?” He sipped his cappuccino. “Jealous?”

  Mia felt her cheeks blaze. First Mark broke up with her because of her work. Now he wanted to rewrite history. He had never made an effort to win her back or explain anything.

  “Listen, Mark, I didn’t invite you here. Got it?”

  “I forgot how cute you are,” he said. “Like a prickly porcupine.”

  Mia opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. He was so infuriating! She turned on her heel and headed for the door with Sylvie. Tandy trotted behind, relieved to be getting out of the restaurant.

  “See you soon, Mia,” Mark said and grinned.

  “I doubt it,” Mia said in a huff.

  As soon as they were outside Mia got her phone out and group texted Brynn and Madison. There was no way she could let this stand. If they were going to ambush her with her ex-fiancé, they were going to get an earful.

  Where are you?

  I need to talk to you NOW.

  After a few moments, Madison texted back.

  Phillips House, dear.

  Having a wonderful time.

  Mia texted a reply, her fingers darting over the keyboard.

  Stay there!

  I’ll be over in 10 minutes.

  “Who are you texting?” Sylvie said as they walked to the car.

  Tandy trotted alongside them, sniffing the bushes happily.

  “My family, “Mia said. “Either my ex-fiancé is stalking me, or my family is meddling. I’m going to get to the bottom of things either way.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  By the time Mia pulled up to the Phillips’ House Historic Museum and parked, she was fuming. Ever since she could remember, her mother and stepfather had meddled in her private life. It was one thing when you were a kid, but she was a grown woman. The very first time she brought up her own podcast before she joined the cast of Bell, Book, and Candle, they were less than supportive. Sometimes there was a vibe of subtle disapproval. Other times, like today, they crossed the line into plain manipulation. Mark appearing out of nowhere and showing up in Salem was not a coincidence.

  “What are you going to do?” Sylvie said, blowing a pink bubble.

  “Give my mom and dad a piece of my mind,” Mia said. “You want to stay in the car?”

  “And miss a family feud, are you kidding?” Sylvie said.

  They got out of the car and Tandy ran along the grass.

  The Phillips House was a federal-style house built in 1806, with a symmetrical façade in the style of the Georgian period. The three-story, dove-gray house with black shutters had passed through a number of hands, including those of Captain Nathaniel West. This was just the kind of historic location Daniel Middleton would find exhilarating.

  As if on cue, the Middleton family and Reynolds appeared, walking around from the side of the house, admiring the structure.

  “There they are,” Mia said and whistled for Tandy, who trotted beside her as they crossed the street. As Mia drew closer, Brynn spotted her and waved. Then she recognized the determined expression on Mia’s face and tapped her mother’s shoulder in warning. Mia walked up to her sister and mother.

  “Okay, you two, time for a chat,” she said and walked them off to one side. Daniel and Reynolds were deep in a conversation about the house’s Palladian windows and hipped roof, oblivious to Mia’s arrival.

  “I’m going to play some fetch with Tandy,” Sylvie said and winked at Mia.

  “What’s up, Mimi?” Brynn said, looking at Mia warily.

  Madison fished around in her handbag. She had always been a terrible liar and she looked guilty.

  “What is Mark Harris doing here?” Mia said testily.

  Madison turned and looked at her with a demure expression. Anyone would think she was completely innocent of all sin.

  “Well, he was coming to Salem anyway,” Madison wheedled. “So we invited him along.”

  “Good God, Mother, what were you thinking?” Mia said, incredulous. “What kind of business could Mark possibly have here?”

  Madison pouted her lip the exact way Brynn always did, which was weird because Brynn was her stepdaughter. But from their Chanel suits down to their pearl earrings they were so alike, it was spooky sometimes.

  “You really don’t have to take that tone with me, Mia,” Madison sniffed.

  Brynn was looking off at a chestnut tree in front of the house as if it were the most interesting thing she had ever seen in her life. Then a thought hit Mia. What if Jeffrey, Brynn’s husband, started this fiasco? Her brother-in-law always created havoc in her life. The whole reason she was pushed to take the job in Salem was because of Jeffrey! He’d kicked her out of the house the same week she lost her lab job and fiancé. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest if Jeffrey was responsible for Mark’s appearance.

  “Did Jeffrey have something to do with this, Brynn?” Mia said.

  “What do you mean?” Brynn said coyly.

  “Mark Harris shows up in Salem? Then stalks me at the local restaurant?”

  “Well, Jeffy did mention Mark was coming to Salem.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?” Mia said, frustrated.

  “Well, I didn’t think you would be reasonable,” Brynn said. “When it comes to Jeffy you can get a little crazy.”

  “I’m warning you both,” Mia said sternly. “Stop interfering in my life.”

  Mia walked over to where Sylvie and Tandy were playing toss the stick. At that moment Reynolds joined them.

  “Hey, Mia,” he said tentatively.

  “Hey, Reynolds,” Mia said.

  “Act natural,” he whispered and leaned down and to pet Tandy. “I just wanted to give you heads-up. Jeffrey arrives sometime tomorrow.”

  Mia froze and felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle. Within the family, her brother-in-law was her biggest nemesis. Her stepfather could be fussy, but he was a saint compared to Jeffrey, who seemed to be out to get her, stirring up drama whenever possible.

  “Jeffrey’s coming to Salem?”
Mia whispered.

  “I’m afraid so,” Reynolds said.

  “Thanks for the heads-up. You’re a good friend.”

  No doubt her brother-in-law had everything to do with the fact that Mark Harris had suddenly appeared in Salem.

  Daniel came over, chest puffed up, notebook open and filled with scribblings and measurements. He was always half-crazed when he went to a historic site. “Tonight we’re visiting a historic pub, will you be joining us, Mia?”

  “I’m going to have to pass,” Mia said. “Tomorrow is going to be impossible. There’s a production meeting early in the morning and our evening shoot. But after that my schedule frees up.”

  “Oh, I see,” Daniel said. “That seems like an awful lot of work for a theatrical production.”

  “It’s hard work but fun,” Mia said.

  “Well, I certainly hope you’ll make time for the family.”

  “Just family, right?” Mia said.

  “Of course,” Daniel said huffily. Mia noticed that Daniel glanced toward Madison and Brynn as he straightened out his coat. Was he in on the plot to bring Mark Harris back into her life, or just uncomfortable?

  “As soon as we’re done with the shoot, I’m all yours.”

  Mia and Sylvie headed back to the car with Tandy. Mia opened the back seat and Tandy leapt inside. The minute they were alone, Sylvie started laughing.

  “Your stepdad’s face when you said just family.” She waved goodbye as the car pulled into traffic and headed back toward the Essex Street apartment building.

  “Ugh, they better think twice before dragging Mark Harris with them,” Mia said as she reached back to pet Tandy, who had his head stuck out the window. The drama of Mia’s family faded behind as they drove under a canopy of trees changing color in the cool weather.

  “Listen, the whole reason you and I were meeting got sidetracked by Middleton mania,” Sylvie said. “What happened back there at the Elmswood House? You looked pretty upset.”

  “I saw something.” Mia said, and the fear suddenly flared up again.

  Sylvie looked at Mia hard.

  “Okay then, what did you see?”

  “A little girl in a cloak,” Mia said. “She was outside in the wooded area and standing at one of the windows when we were leaving.”

  “Like those people in period clothing you saw?” Sylvie said.

  “Sort of,” Mia said, feeling uncomfortable about the topic. Sylvie was referring to the terrible incident where Mia had seen mysterious figures in period clothing at the Howard Street Cemetery. At the time, she was being hunted down by a psychotic maniac named Arthur Crippen, the previous owner of Charnel Tours before Albee Abernathy took over. Johnny and Sylvie were convinced she’d seen a pair of ghosts, but Mia wasn’t so sure.

  “Maybe the little girl is a ghost?” Sylvie said.

  “I also got a really bad feeling in the house.”

  “A feeling?” Sylvie said. “Now don’t get me wrong, I have bad feelings all the time, I just never thought I’d hear Mia Bold say that she got a bad feeling about a haunted house.”

  “I know, it’s ridiculous,” Mia said. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Graham and Ollie, let alone Johnny. But that house made me feel sick.”

  “The place could use some work, for sure. But I didn’t feel anything. Maybe you have psychic powers? Like that white witch Hazel?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mia said.

  “I’m serious, Mia. Even you admit there’s such a thing as ESP.”

  “I wish we were filming at another location. Maybe I can convince Graham and Ollie to choose another place.”

  Suddenly there was a text on Sylvia’s phone and she looked down.

  “Too late, the shooting schedule just came through.”

  She held her phone up and Mia glanced at the schedule.

  Cast and Crew Call

  Bell, Book, and Candle: The Elmswood Horror House

  Call Time: 1700 Hours

  Location: 555 Elmswood Drive—Swampscott

  Mia had to admit, she was more than just nervous about going back to that house; she actually felt ill and overwhelmed at the thought. Fear was building up in the pit of her stomach as if something awful was going to happen. The fate of the Browder family made her cringe. And there were some well-documented haunted houses like the Amityville Horror and the Indiana Demon House that had caused measurable physical symptoms in the investigators. As far as Mia was concerned, knowledge was power. She needed to better understand that house on Elmswood Road before she walked back inside the scariest place she’d ever encountered. She pulled into the parking lot behind the building. As they got out of the car, Sylvie yawned.

  “I have to admit, your family has exhausted me,” she said and grinned. “I think I’m going to take a nap before I meet Johnny. We’re going to a Love Addicts Anonymous meeting tonight. Wanna come? Maybe it would help with Mark?”

  “Believe me, I’m so over Mark,” Mia said. “Besides, I really need to research tonight. Usually, I have weeks to investigate a site, not twenty-four hours!”

  “Okay, later,” Sylvie said.

  Mia watched Sylvie disappear into her apartment. Both her friends had bonded over their recent bad romances. Sylvie had broken up with Dexter, the lead singer for Amplitude, a New York City rock band. And Johnny had been dumped by the beautiful but toxic Salem lifestyle blogger, Vicki Carlyle.

  Mia and Tandy stepped into the hurricane of her apartment. Tandy and Rose took one look at each other and ran off to play while Mia started cleaning.

  An hour later, Mia squeezed the mud out of her mop and finished the last patch of floor in the kitchen. No more muddy boot and paw prints. Books were back on the shelves, papers were filed, maps folded and put aside. Tandy and Rose watched her work like she’d gone crazy.

  “Okay, you two,” Mia said as she put the cleaning supplies away in the cupboard. “We’re ready for inspection.” Now, if her family showed up, she could pass the white glove test.

  It had been a long, busy day, but Mia was finally alone.

  After taking a shower and putting on her favorite black, silk pajamas, Mia poured herself a glass of wine. Then she opened her computer and settled down to research the Elmswood House. An incoming message pinged. When she saw who the email was from, she sat bolt upright. All her plans dissolved in an instant.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mia stared at the unexpected email from Suzy Sharpe and a nervous flutter erupted in her stomach. Suzy, a local news reporter for the Salem Star, had almost derailed Mia’s last investigation. But eventually they made an uneasy truce after Mia agreed to give her an exclusive interview. In return, Suzy had agreed to help Mia find her real father, Frank Bold. As Mia read the subject line, she felt a thrill.

  Subject: Possible cell phone number for Frank Bold.

  Mia sat bolt upright. Had Suzy Sharpe found her dad’s number? She opened the email, eager to see what Suzy had discovered.

  Hey Mia,

  I have a source who looked at cell phone data for calls made at Salem Athenaeum the night your dad was there.

  Every number could be easily attributed to someone except one, a pay-as-you-go number: 555-555-0194.

  I called but there was no answer and the voicemail was just a recording with some music.

  My source traced the same number to calls made from the Hawthorne Hotel. For Salem, that’s pretty fancy. So, if it was your dad, looks like money isn’t a problem.

  —Suzy Sharpe

  Mia looked at the number and felt a thrill. Could this be her father’s phone number? She often thought of the warm, sunny days they’d spent together along the Jersey Shore boardwalk. Mia was too young to understand at the time, but Frank was a confabulator. To this day, she had no idea why he had told so many stories—to amuse himself or was there a deeper reason? Mia could remember distinctly Frank having half a dozen supposed jobs, from international journalist to explorer. She didn’t believe he was a grifter or a con man,
but he told tall tales to nearly everyone they had ever met. Frank Bold was last seen only three months ago at the Salem Athenaeum dressed as a wealthy Scottish laird or landowner, listening to a reading of Robert Louis Stevenson.

  What was Frank up to that night? Mia wondered. Had he really stayed at the Hawthorne Hotel?

  She opened her phone to dial the number, filled with anticipation. Her hand hovered over the keypad, torn whether to call him or not. What should she say after all this time? What would he say? How could he possibly explain his long absence?

  Frank had been missing for years, since Mia was a little kid. Everything her mom had ever said about him rumbled through her mind. That he was a dreamer without a practical bone in his body, a rambler, a loner, a lost cause.

  Mia took a deep breath. For all she knew, this was just another disappointing clue that pointed to a dead end.

  There was only one way to find out. Slowly, she dialed the number and held the phone to her ear. After a moment there was a click as the line picked up.

  “Hello?” Mia said. But instead of a voice on the other end of the phone, a song began to play “Drive,” by The Cars.

  Mia was so shocked, she nearly dropped the phone.

  That was her dad’s favorite song, part of the era he’d grown up in and had a moody quality. As Mia listened to the lyrics, she longed to connect to her dad.

  Who’s going to drive you home tonight? Who’s going to pay attention to your dreams? Who’s going to pay attention to your schemes?

  There was a loud beep indicating she was supposed to leave a message.

  Her heart beat faster and her throat shut down.

  “Um, hello, this is a message for Frank—I mean, Dad. I’m not sure if this is your phone? But if it is, could you call me? It’s your daughter, Mia.”

  She recited her cell phone number and hung up. The whole thing was probably a dead end. But The Cars song haunted her. It had to be him, didn’t it? She reread Suzy’s letter. The Hawthorne Hotel? Mia fought the urge to run over to the hotel and question the staff. Instead, she went into her files and retrieved the article that had appeared in the Salem Star and spread the paper across the table.